My Husband's Lover by Jess Ryder

Author:Jess Ryder [Ryder, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803145198
Published: 2022-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

SOPHIE

It’s a cold morning. They hurriedly strip off, dryrobes first, then various sweatshirts, woolly jumpers, T-shirts and vests, until they are standing in nothing but their swimsuits. Sophie is the last to get undressed. She puts a large stone on top of her pile of clothes and pulls on an orange swimming cap. The others are waiting for her, shivering in the chilly breeze. The weather is dry, and the sun is poking intermittently between the clouds, but it’s still bitterly cold.

‘Sorry,’ she says, tucking a few strands of hair beneath the cap. ‘Ready now.’

‘Race you!’ shouts Elise. ‘Last one in the sea cooks tonight!’

Laughing, they scamper towards the incoming tide, weaving a path between rock pools and clumps of slippery seaweed. Sophie’s skin tingles with goosebumps, thousands of fine hairs standing on end, her psychic efforts concentrated on imminent submersion in freezing-cold water. Ariel is the first in, striding out until it’s deep enough, then launching herself forward with a defiant splash. Grace and Elise enter more cautiously, gingerly holding their arms aloft – ankles to knees to thighs to hips to waist. They release the customary squeals as they finally give in and dip their shoulders under.

Sophie remains at the edge. She was so looking forward to this, but now that she’s here, she’s not so sure she can do it. A wave runs over her feet, the cold water instantly triggering a memory. Her heart starts to race as it did that night. Suddenly she’s in the loch, in the darkness, caught by the ankle, being dragged down… She jumps back.

The others are waving at her to join them, but she turns on her heel and hurtles back up the beach. All her excitement has turned to fear. She’s desperate to put distance between herself and the cold water. As she reaches base, she pulls off her cap and grabs her clothes, re-dressing with frantic haste. Then she sits down on a rock and starts to cry, wiping her face with the sleeve of the dryrobe, which was meant to be soaking up seawater rather than tears.

The others are still frolicking in the waves, but they won’t be able to stand the cold much longer. Sophie opens her day bag and takes out her flask. She unscrews the cup and removes the stopper, her hand shaking as she pours the tea. She cradles the thin plastic cup and looks around, hoping the scenery might calm her.

The ruined houses are to her right, clustered together against the elements that ravaged them decades ago. About a hundred metres beyond them is the bothy. There’s no sign of any smoke coming out of the chimney. Maybe the journalist guy has moved on. She sips the scalding tea and feels her heart rate slowing.

The others are coming out of the water now, skipping towards her, skin red and blotchy with cold, swimsuits dripping, faces wet and joyful.

‘What happened, Sophie?’ asks Elise. She grabs her dryrobe and throws it over her head, disappearing for a few seconds.

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